What It Takes to be Human
by ghostystarr59
Summary: It's been done, but here's a stab at our favorite werewolf's past. Remus Lupin, a shy, intelligent young wizard with a shattering secret desperately tries to balance the two beings dwelling inside him: the man and the beast. As his years in Hogwarts fly by, he begins to understand what it truly means to be human.
1. Chapter 1

_Run._

Every fiber in his body, each shattered, broken breath that left his both, reminded his tired legs to move. The cold night air stung his lungs. The exertion felt like a sharp knife twisting inside of him, but still he ran. The full moon, hung low in the sky under a mess of heavy clouds, taunted him as he flew past the woods.

A stray branch nicked his cheek as he passed, leaving behind a thin, red line on his pale skin. The dead leaves crunched beneath his quick feet as his sense of panic drove him forward.

Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. Ducking behind a thick oak, the small boy crouched low to the ground, taking in huffs of air. He tried to come up with a logical reason for what he had just seen.

He had been walking from his friend's house to his own. It was late; his mother worried, so he decided to take the small path through the woods to cut some time out of his walk. He had just passed a large bend when a horrifying sight befell the young boy's kind brown eyes.

At first he thought it a man, but soon he realized that he was gaping at an animal of some sort. It was big. Monstrously big. Its strong muscles quivered with anticipation. It was covered in shabby brown fur, longer in some places than in others, and its body was covered in deep, thick scars. With its long snout, it was searching the ground for something—a scent. Suddenly, the beast turned to stare at him. Its eyes—they were the most terrifying. They were bestial, full of raw anger and violence, but there was also something else in them. Something surprisingly…human. Then the monster rose on his solid back legs, tossed back its head, and let out an ear-splitting, bone-shattering howl.

His next thought was simple.

_Run_.

The boy held onto the hard bark to keep himself from falling over onto the frozen ground. His mind was racing with thoughts on what he could have seen. The word that kept popping into his head was "wolf". But that had not been a wolf he had ever seen.

He waited in the dead quiet night. He could see the forest quite clearly in the full moon's light. Gathering up his courage, he prepared to peek over the side of the tree. Slowly, his eyes crept past the old oak and glanced nervously around the wilderness.

Nothing.

A heavy sigh of relief passed his lips. Perhaps it had lost him, or maybe it had never chased him at all, or maybe he had imagined the whole thing.

Whatever had happened, he was glad it was over.

Warmth returning to his numb limbs, he turned and began to stumble clumsily in the direction of his home, where his mother would no doubt scold him for being late. He wondered if she would believe him.

Above him, the branches rustled uneasily. It was as if he had stumbled on live wires. The electric pang of fear that ran up his spine was enough to momentarily paralyze him. Shaking, he turned back, even though his every instinct told him not to.

A branch broke. His gaze traveled to it. And his mouth dropped in horror.

In the pocket of the tree rested the beast—the wolf. It snarled at him, showing its yellow, sharp teeth and digging its razor-like claws into the bark. It growled and crouched low, its body tensing up. The boy couldn't move—couldn't think. He could only stare.

Suddenly, the wolf leaped from the tree, lunging straight for him.

In an instant, the boy was on the ground.

Remus Lupin shot up in bed. He was covered in a sheet of cold sweat, his heart hammered in his chest painfully. It was all he could hear. He saw that he was in his room, although that did not give him much comfort. He wiped his eyes, trying to push back the memories that haunted his sleep.

Three years and he could still remember the look in its eyes. He could still hear its deep growls. His right hand clutched his left arm, where a white, nasty scar ran all the way up to his shoulder. And he could still feel the pain.

Still, now that he knew what he had encountered, he had sympathy for the creature.

He remembered back to when it first happened. It had only been one month since the attack. Remus had been lying in his bed, eyes wide and fixated on a single dot on his ceiling. His left shoulder and arm were still wrapped up in tight bandages from the animal attack. His father had tried to help him. He cast so many different spells that it made Remus's head spin.

Remus's father was a wizard, working for the Ministry of Magic, doing _Merlin-knows-what_. He never asked what his father did.

Remus's mother, on the other hand, was a muggle. She couldn't wave a wand or cast an incantation, but her cooking was magical in and of itself.

His father had been very anxious after the attack. He kept questioning Remus about the beast. _How big was it? Did it have a long snout? How long were its legs?_ Remus had thought that these were odd questions, but answered them as fully as he could. The night was a blur, but at the same time it was painstakingly clear.

Remus had been in his room, one month to the hour of the attack, where he could hear the muffled shouts of his parents from the floor below. They had suddenly begun to fight often, and Remus couldn't help but feel guilty. He had tossed the covers over his head, squeezed his eyes shut, and focused on something else. He was eight years old. In two and a half years, he would be going to Hogwarts.

After that thought hit him, was when it happened.

It started with an annoying prickle throughout his entire body. For a moment he simply thought he had been lying on his side for too long. But then a wave of pain rippled through him, igniting a fire inside his veins.

It felt like someone was tearing him apart and putting him back together again, like a puzzle, only to rip it to pieces again. He was barely even aware that he was screaming, or that his parents had stopped yelling. He looked at his hands and cried out.

His fingers were longer, and his nails had grown into claws. He let out a scream and fell out of his bed. The fear that had possessed him one month ago had returned. In a flash, his parents were next to him. He felt his mother's cool hand press against his cheek. She was speaking to him, but her words sounded far away, like they were coming through a radio.

"Remus! Romulus, do something!" she shouted at his father, whose face had grown white. Suddenly, he grabbed his mother and dragged her away from him. His mother cried out and reached for Remus, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"There's nothing we can do!" his father shouted. "Not now!" He led her out of the room and turned back to face Remus, a look of pure grief striking his face as Remus writhed in pain, more monster than man, and said, "I'm so sorry, son."

The door closed.

The next morning, his parents had rushed him to St. Mungo's. They shouted at the doctors, and the whole place was alive with chaos. They had run tests—so many tests that he began to lose count. Remus had been very confused, and very scared. He had only remembered blurs of the night before, but from the state of his room he knew it must not have been good.

A doctor had walked in, a wand in hand and a frown on his face. His parents had been standing behind him, hands on his shoulders. Remus looked around at their expressions. None of them seemed cheerful.

"I'm sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Lupin," the doctor spoke lowly, "we've tried every spell, potion, and charm we could think of. But there simply isn't a cure. Your son will remain with this curse for the rest of his life."

Remus's mother let out a sob and his father wrapped an arm around her comfortingly. Remus was still lost. "Curse?" he repeated. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm sorry, Remus," the doctor's voice dropped, "but it's irreversible once the DNA enters the bloodstream."

"_What's_ not irreversible?"

"You're a werewolf."

Remus blinked as he lied in bed. That was three years ago today. March 10th. His birthday.

His tired eyes traveled to the small clock sitting on his nightstand. It was half past one in the morning. He had been eleven for a full hour and a half now. He glanced hopefully at his window, imagining that an owl would appear outside of it with a letter tied to its foot. But it didn't come.

Remus really should have known better. Professor Dumbledore would be wise to keep Remus away from that school, away from all the children that stayed in its walls. It was safer that way. Still, Remus had already read all the text books required for first years at Hogwarts. What he lacked in confidence he made up for with determination. He wanted to learn. He wanted to be a normal student—well, as normal of a student at a wizarding school could be.

He wanted to prove to his professors that, even though he was a monster one night a month, he was still human.

For another hour he stared wistfully at his window, but then he fell asleep, dreaming of feasts and classes and friends and tests.

It felt like he had only shut his eyes for a moment, when suddenly a quick stream of taps awoke him. _Tap, tap, tap!_ He sat up, searching groggily for the source of the noise. It had gotten lighter while he slept. Dawn had arrived. He spotted his window and noticed a snowy white owl sitting impatiently outside. It shook out its feathers and let out a high-pitched whistle before tapping its beak against the glass pane again.

Remus abandoned his bed and flew to the window. He opened the window at once and the bird flew in, landing on top of Remus's desk. It held out its foot lazily. Remus's attention was now on the parchment tied to the owl's leg. His heart skipped a beat. He reached out, afraid that he might startle the bird and it would leave, taking his dream with it.

When his hand rested on the paper, he let out a sigh of relief, and untied it. While he opened the letter, the owl hooted cheerfully, as if congratulating him.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

_Dear Mr. Lupin,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July._

_Yours truly,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

He read it again. And one more time for good measure.

The owl whistled and a wild grin appeared on Remus's face for the first in years. He ran out of his room, shouting for his parents, and nearly smacked his head off of his door. "Mum! Dad! Guess what?"

"_Absolutely NOT!_" his father bellowed once he had finished reading the letter. "He's not going!"

Remus looked at his mother, who looked just as confused as he felt. "But—why not?" she asked.

"Why not?" he repeated, raising his eyebrows. "What are you talking about? Our son cannot go to a school filled with children and teachers with his condition! What if someone found out? What if someone got hurt? _Bitten_? It's not safe. For anyone."

"Professor Dumbledore thinks it's safe," his mother said in defense. "He must or else he wouldn't have sent the letter."

"Maybe he doesn't know," his father retorted. "We haven't exactly made this public, have we?"

"He knows," Remus found himself saying. "I've waited eleven years for that letter. And now that it's finally here, and I've been accepted, you're going to tell me I can't go? I can't even try?"

"Remus, I know this is hard. But think about it. Where would you change? How would parents react when they found out that there is a werewolf at the school? They would protest. I'm doing this for your safety, son."

"You don't trust me, more like," he muttered spitefully.

His father looked up at him, his mouth set in a firm line. He opened his mouth to speak but suddenly another owl flew in through an open window and sat down on the dining room table and dropped a letter in front of him. It was addressed to Mr. Romulus Lupin. For a few moments, the room was still. Remus didn't even breathe.

Then, his father lifted the letter, opened it, and pulled out a long letter. Remus peered over his shoulder to read the words.

_Mr. Lupin,_

_I understand your concerns for your son attending Hogwarts. However, I assure you that all safety measures possible will be enforced to protect Mr. Remus Lupin and the students and staff of the school, as well as maintain his secret. His condition is hardly an inconvenience to us. I see no logical reason as to why Remus cannot join us and learn how to perform magic. It is, of course, your decision to make, but, before you do, remember that everyone has a secret, or an affliction—a secret vice. These secrets do not make us a danger to anything. It is our own minds, our own choices that corrupt us._

_And remember your own secrets, Romulus._

_So, if by chance, you do decide for Remus to attend at Hogwarts, I should like to explain to you in person what we have planned in order to deal with his monthly condition. Send a letter if you wish to meet at the Leaky Cauldron in two weeks' time to discuss important matters._

_Quite fondly,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

Remus reached the bottom of the page and found himself to be even more curious than before. Dumbledore had mentioned that he had a plan to deal with Remus's problem. What kind of plan did it involve? Images of cages, dungeons, and leashes filled Remus's head and he suddenly felt quite queasy.

Also, what had Dumbledore meant when he had told Remus's father to remember his own secrets? What secrets did he have?

"Well, Romulus?" His mother broke the silence; her voice cut the thick air like a shrill knife. "Are you going to speak to this Albus Dumbledore or will you let your son stay here, miserable for the rest of his life?"

Remus looked at his father, with silent pleas in his wide eyes. Romulus sighed and stood up. "I will talk to Professor Dumbledore," he said, "and then I will make my decision. I'm not sending my son anywhere before I am certain that it is safe."


	2. Chapter 2

The months crept by slower than Remus had thought it possible. He was in the basement of his two-story house. On the unfinished, concrete walls were countless, deep gouges from his previous transformations. This was where he turned month after month. There room was sealed off by magic on the night of his turn, to ensure that Remus wouldn't do anything…unfortunate.

It was July, and Remus was still waiting for an answer from his father. He had been patient. He had tried every approach he could think of to prove to Romulus that he was ready to go to school. He wanted to go more than anything.

If he studied hard enough, if he surrounded himself with enough resources, then maybe he would be able to make a cure. Perhaps he could not only save himself from this curse, but the poor man that had cursed him.

Remus thought about him often. He felt sorry for him. Some other werewolf had bitten him and now he was doomed to turn into a monster once a month with no control over his actions. Remus was sure that whoever had bitten him was suffering as well. He wanted to help him, and anyone else who turned.

His senses were on high alert on the night of a full moon, even as a human. Remus tapped his foot against the floor and closed his eyes. He could hear the gears in the big grandfather clock upstairs move, ticking away time. He could smell the lilies his mother had on the table in the dining room. He could sense each movement in the house like a spider could feel each movement in its web. Remus could even hear his neighbors talk. He could hear their hearts beating.

He covered his ears.

The wait was always the worst.

The grandfather clock began to chime as it reached nine o'clock. Remus wished his hands would quit shaking. The pain that had become too familiar to him crept into his body as he lost control of his own thoughts.

Only one thought ran through his mind now.

_Run!_

* * *

The next morning, Remus's father opened the door with his wand in his hand. "Remus?" he called. "Are you…? You know…"

"Not a dog?" Remus finished for him, sitting up with a yawn. "Check."

Romulus watched his warily. "How are you feeling now?"

"Well, I'm all right," Remus said, "but the same can't be said for my shirt." He gestured to several large tears in his T-shirt. "I think I must have smelt Mum's chicken on it or something."

Romulus didn't laugh at Remus's joke. If anything, he looked even more serious. He took a deep breath and said, "How badly do you want to go to that school?"

Remus froze. That had been the first time that his father had even mentioned school since he had gone to talk with Professor Dumbledore months ago. Excitement swelled through him. "More than anything!" he assured him.

Romulus sighed and nodded. "Then you'll need a wand."

* * *

Remus didn't know what he was expecting when his father took him to Diagon Alley, but it wasn't this. Witches and wizards of all sorts were bustling down the twisted, narrow streets, rushing to get into small shops filled to the ceiling with magical items. Romulus had to practically drag Remus away from the bookstore.

"We'll get your robes fitted at Madam Malkin's first," his father was saying. "Then we'll stop by Slug and Jiggers Apothecary to get your potions supplies. After that, we'll go to Ollivander's and get your wand."

A surge of anticipation rose in him. He was finally here. "Can't we get the wand first?" Remus asked.

"There are too many people," Romulus muttered as they maneuvered through the crowded street. "Besides, Madam Malkin's is right here."

They stepped in the store to find it void of any other customers. "Good, we've beaten the rush," Romulus muttered. "When I came here as a kid, there used to be lines all the way to Gringotts."

A young woman walked from a back room to the desk and a smile appeared on her face. "Ah, school robes, yes?"

"It's my son's first year," Romulus said. Remus thought he heard a twinge of pride in his father's voice.

"First year, eh? Don't worry, sweetie. Hogwarts is a safe place. There isn't a single thing there that could harm a student!"

"Want to bet?" Remus muttered under his breath. His father nudged him with his elbow and laughed nervously, but Madam Malkin didn't seem to notice.

"All right, dearie, just come to the back and we'll get you taken care of."

Afterwards, with new robes in hand and bags full of roots, powders, herbs, oils, beetle-eyes, and batwings, they made their way to Ollivander's. Remus had been looking forward to this since he first entered Diagon Alley earlier in the morning, but now, as he stared up at the wooden sign, he felt a bit nervous.

What if he didn't find the right wand? What if his father decided that letting him enroll in Hogwarts was a mistake and took him back home?

Romulus placed a hand on Remus's shoulder. "You ready?"

Taking a deep breath, Remus nodded and they entered the store together. As soon as Remus put on foot in the door, he felt like he was drowning in boxes. They were towers and towers of assorted wand boxes stacked to the ceiling all the way to the back of the dark store. There must have been thousands of them. What if Remus's wand was one of the dusty boxes at the bottom of a stack in the back corner? It could take years to find the right one!

"Don't worry," his father said as if reading his thoughts, "Ollivander is the finest wand maker in England. He'll find your wand in no time."

"Ah!" came an old, dry voice. A head poked out from behind one of the smaller piles. Remus craned his neck to get a better glimpse of him over the tall counter. An older gentleman in wizard robes shuffled into view. "First year?" he guessed.

"Obviously," Remus mumbled.

"I just had a rambunctious lad in here about ten minutes ago. He nearly brought down the ceiling! It's a good thing we found his wand before too much damage was done. Nothing a little wave of the wand couldn't fix, though!" Ollivander studied Remus, scrutinizing every detail. Remus felt a bit self-conscious. What was he staring at?

"Yes, let's see here!" Ollivander rushed to a stack to his right and pulled out a long black box from the top. "Eleven and a half inches…mahogany…and a core of dragon heartstring. Give it a try!" Ollivander handed Remus a long, dark wand.

It felt heavy and stiff in Remus's hands. He glanced at his father, who nodded encouragingly. Remus shrugged and waved the wand once. Behind him, two tall heaps of wands collapsed on themselves. Remus grimaced. "Sorry…" He placed the wand back on the table.

Ollivander sighed. "All right…let's try this one." He rummaged around for a bit. He searched two full stacks before choosing a grey box from the very top of a pile. "Ten and a half inches, ebony, and Veela hair."

As soon as Remus's fingertips touched the wood, warmth seemed to spread through his hand. It was as if that wand had been crafted just for his hand. Ollivander smiled. "That's the look. I've been doing this a very long time. I think it's safe to say that that's your wand. But give it a wave, just to be sure."

Remus did so, and the mess his previous wand had made cleaned itself up at once. Ollivander chuckled happily. "There we have it! You have your wand!"

They paid for it, bade Mr. Ollivander a good day, and set off to finish their shopping. Two hours later, Remus had a cauldron, books, parchment and ink, a telescope, brass scales, and glass phials. He passed a store that sold broomsticks and his father looked in interestedly. "You know I played for Hufflepuff's Quidditch team when I was in Hogwarts," he said. "What about a broom?"

"Yeah," Remus snorted, "a flying werewolf. That'll make things easier."

* * *

**Hey everyone! Thanks for the positive feedback! I plan to keep going through Remus's first few years at Hogwarts at least with some time jumps thrown in. So, I hope you all enjoy it and feel free to criticize/ comment, either are so appreciated! Kay, enough blabbering from me.**

**-N**


End file.
